Burn
by LazurusRising238
Summary: The darkness had consumed him, he had given in. Only one thing still made his humanity burn bright and strong, and no matter what happened, he was not going to lose that one thing.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing whatsoever.**

**Warning: This is seriously dark. More than one major character death, scenes of mature sexual content, including rape. You have been warned.**

Merlin thrust deep one last time, stilled and let out a long groan. Very slowly, he pulled his way out, deliberately making it last before stepping away. He wasn't sure if he imagined the slight whimper that escaped his prisoner as he did so, but found even if it was just in his mind, it gave him a stirring of pleasure once more. His eyes flashed brilliant gold in the darkness of the cave and the chains binding Camelot's rightful monarch lengthened as he let Arthur have some slack again. Tucking himself away, Merlin watched careful, his eyes returning to the deep pools of black as Arthur slowly turned around. Even in the black flame that only just illuminated the Once and Future King, Merlin had to laugh when he saw that Arthur was completely limp. He wondered what the once golden royal had forced himself to think of to stay like that, for the warlock was more than aware of precisely what he could do to Arthur's body.

After all, it wasn't as if he hadn't had time to find out. It had been over a year since he had lost the willpower to carry on fighting for what was right. Every time he had killed in Arthur's name, Merlin had found that he had absorbed his opponent's power – Nimueh, Sigan, Morgause… He had all of their magic thrumming through his veins and making him more powerful than even the Druids had ever been able to comprehend. For a long time, he had managed to keep hold of himself, crawling into Arthur's bed in the middle of the night and letting his prince hold him as he sobbed out his anguish over what he was becoming.

It was Uther who had been his downfall in the end. When Hunith had come stumbling into Camelot pleading for help once again, the King had refused. Merlin didn't even know what had happened. All the frustration that he had been feeling for years had burst straight out of him, and Uther had suffered the same punishment that he had inflicted on so many of Merlin's kind. But rather than the golden roaring flames that had provided some sort of justice to the sorcerers he had burnt, Merlin's flames were black as they had licked their way up the screaming King. The knights had been knocked out with one flicker of his eyes, but for a reason that he still couldn't explain, Merlin had forced Arthur to watch. He had held him tight, immobilising the prince with strands of magic as he made Arthur watch his father burn. If there was one look that Merlin would never forget, it was the look on Arthur's face, the utter contempt, the cold hatred as he glared at his once-lover across his father's corpse. The message was clear – Arthur had put aside all he knew and believed about magic in order to trust Merlin, and the warlock had just thrown it back in his face.

It had been over too quickly, almost ironically fast as everyone seemed to realise that act had just caused Merlin to lose himself. The second that he had lit the flames, it was as if part of his soul had withered and died, and he knew in that instant that there would be no coming back from what he had just done. He had sent his mother on her way, wiping all memories of the events from her mind so she had no recollection of what had just happened. Leon had been killed trying to get to Arthur and Elyan and Percival had been banished. Unlike Uther's banishment, Merlin's punishment stuck. If they were to take one step within Camelot's borders, pain beyond imagining would cripple them until they crawled back out again. Gwaine was still in the dungeons, Merlin knew how much Morgana liked to play with the surviving member of the Round Table. Gwen had fled and Gaius had died of a broken heart as he watched the once vivid-blue of his ward's eyes slowly turn and stay black.

Yet for Arthur, Merlin had something else in mind. He had dragged the prin-no, king – down to Kilgharrah's cave by his hair, Merlin's magic meaning that Arthur hadn't been able to tear free. And that was where he had stayed ever since – shackled by his wrists, ankles and neck to the cold wall. Merlin allowed him no clothing, but had forced Arthur to rely upon the warlock's magic in order to stay warm and alive. Morgana had taken the throne – Merlin never had had a desire for it - and the pair of them had created an unbeatable Camelot. In Merlin's mind, Albion now existed, for the lands were almost falling over themselves in order to make sure that Camelot didn't declare war, for nothing could stand in their way.

"You're a good boy really, aren't you?" Merlin mocked, watching as Arthur's legs gave way. He hadn't given the man permission to sit down -the chains only just being long enough – but he had had a trying day and had no desire to fight Arthur. As twisted as he had become, part of him still cared, even loved, the royal. It might give him pleasure beyond imagining seeing Arthur chained up and shivering, longing for Merlin's touch, but that didn't even scrape the surface as to what Merlin felt when he was balls deep inside the king. He reached forward, carding his fingers through Arthur's dull and lifeless hair, magic sparking from his fingertips.

This time, he was rewarded. Arthur might have been able to turn his mind from what was happening as Merlin had pushed his way into his resisting body, but a year of being "trained" to react to Merlin's magic was not something to be underestimated. As the magic fell from Merlin's fingers, the king moaned before he could stop himself, his cock immediately twitching slightly. Merlin could see the way that Arthur was gritting his teeth, trying to stop it from happening even as tears of humiliation stung his eyes once more. Whereas Merlin's eyes had gone cold and black, Arthur's were more expressive than ever. They had to be, since his voice was hoarse and broken sounding. The only people he saw was the servant – no, slave, Morgana insisted they were called slaves – who fed and washed him, and Merlin. And it wasn't often the warlock allowed Arthur to talk.

"You like that, don't you?"

Arthur snarled, trying to push Merlin's hand away. Merlin just let his eyes flash again and the chains binding Arthur's wrists were shortened, pulling his hands up over his head. The King didn't even gasp, used to the warlock restraining him in such a manner, but continued to try and fight back, despite the warning look that Merlin was shooting him, only just visible in the darkness. If there was one thing that Merlin had come to understand about Arthur from the very first time he had met the prat, it was that he did not back down. Even now, he was still fighting.

"Stop it." Arthur muttered, still trying to turn his head away from where the magic was leaving Merlin's fingers and spiralling into his body. He was half-hard by now, and Merlin knelt down next to him. His hands left Arthur's head but drifted down his face, caressing it almost cruelly as he continued to force the magic into the king.

"But you like it so much." Merlin smirked as he nodded downwards, and he could feel Arthur trying to will his body to stop betraying him. It was too late, he was hard. Merlin had realise from the very first time they had lain together after Arthur had discovered his secret that his magic aroused the other man, and it was knowledge he had put to good use. It had taken a long time, but now, he could almost guarantee Arthur's reaction when he let the magic fall from his eyes and lips.

"Merlin, stop." Merlin pulled his hand away, bringing it to his shoulder and backhanding Arthur sharply, standing up as he did so.

"What did I tell you about using my name?" He barked, but Arthur didn't answer. He just turned his head away, a clear sign of defiance. Merlin sighed – if he hadn't spent all day trying to warn Bayard off trying to attack – despite everything, he still had no love for bloodshed – he might have punished Arthur. But instead, he just turned around and started to walk away. Even after a year of isolation and being used and humiliated, Arthur still had the strength to defy him. In a way, Merlin was glad, he was sure that he would get bored if Arthur became completely submissive. There was still a spark in the king, still the same fiery goodness that had made Merlin fall in love with him in the first place. Whilst Arthur fought, Merlin continued to love, and with that, he held onto the one piece of his soul that was left. He heard Arthur shift behind him, then the king seemed to realise that Merlin was just going to leave him like that, with absolutely no relief.

"Don't you dare, you bastard!" Arthur yelled after him, and Merlin allowed himself a pleasant moment of wondering what his prisoner would do with his hands still pulled above his head in order to lose his erection. But in response, Merlin just waved his hand, plummeting the cave into darkness once more as he strode purposefully through the castle.

Dressed in black boots and black breeches, Merlin looked exactly like the person he had become. Yet his chest was bare, only the small scar from Nimueh's fireball all those years ago marking the flawless skin. A short, black cloak was fastened around his shoulders and a circle of silver rested on his head, contrasting with the darkness of his hair. He didn't quite look human anymore; his face had an unearthly beauty to it not seen before. Not to mention that now he had stopped holding back his magic, his previous clumsiness had vanished and he moved with an elegance and grace that made people know in one look not to cross him.

Not that there was any doubt in anyone's mind. They all practically ran from his approach anyway, and he could see the way they trembled and shook when they were forced to serve him. To start with, Merlin had hated it, these people had been his friends. But then the darkness had claimed his soul to an even greater extent, and he stopped caring. Maybe it was partly Morgana's influence, but all they were now was someone to do his bidding rather than people. He had to force himself to think like that, for he knew that if he allowed his conscience to get the better of him, all would fall apart. If that happened, who would be there to protect Arthur?

"Merlin?" There was only one person who still used his name freely and Merlin turned, bowing his head slightly as he did so.

"My Lady." Even after everything, he refused to address Morgana as a queen, and whilst it had vexed her to start with, even the witch realised that she would stand no chance if she crossed Merlin. Yet there was no denying that was what she now was, and she looked every inch the queen that she believed she had been born to be. Dressed in a simple, yet low cut gown, Morgana could still use her feminine charms to an ever greater extent than her magic, and it was said that to look upon her was to fall in love with her. Merlin had no idea if that were true or not, but considering his heart – what was left of it -still firmly belonged to the man chained underneath the castle, he knew that he would never find out. He had noticed that he seemed to be the only one that was still able to defy her though.

"How is your pet?" It seemed to never cease to amuse Morgana that Merlin kept Arthur alive, and that day after day he made the journey down to the cave. He didn't care what she thought, didn't mind if she considered Arthur to be a weakness for him, a way for him to hold onto his humanity. She didn't have that, and so she didn't understand. No one had ever claimed that the rules of love had to be gentle and caring the whole time. Merlin still loved Arthur, that was true, but there was certainly nothing romantic about their relationship now. It was a mutual understanding between them, a fine line between love and hate that both seem to cross regularly. It normally depended on what mood Merlin was in and therefore how he treated his prisoner as to what side of that line they fell.

"He wanted to play." Merlin said with a shadow of a smirk, causing Morgana to smile back. She knew what that meant. She knew that it normally meant that Arthur was attempting to be demanding, hoping to take some sort of control the way that he was used to and Merlin had just denied him.

"Helios arrives tomorrow, were you aware?" Merlin tilted his head to one side thoughtfully before giving a small shrug. His magic might have informed him that someone was coming, but he didn't particularly care. It wasn't as if anyone proved to be a threat to him anymore.

"I am now, My Lady."

"He wants to know if he can have Arthur for a night." Merlin had stopped noticing the way that she almost spat the name of her brother, the man she had even once loved as a sibling. Instead, his eyes flashed dangerously and the torches down the whole corridor flickered ominously as his magic almost snarled possessively.

"No one touches Arthur." He growled, the very air around him growing dark and colder as his shadow seemed to lengthen. Morgana merely blinked, used to him acting out where the rightful king was involved.

"That's what I told him." She responded coolly. "Now come, you are probably hungry after your exertions. You will escort your Queen, will you not?"

Merlin didn't say anything, but simply held out his arm, the magic fading away once again and the corridor seeming light and warm. In comparison to how it had been under Uther's reign, there was now an almost constant shadow that hung over the land, however. Destiny had been corrupted, and the land was paying the price for it. He knew that he was playing a dangerous game by refusing to bow properly to Morgana. But she didn't seem to understand why Arthur had to be kept alive. She could invite whoever the hell she wanted into her own bed, but Merlin was going to make damn sure that no one touched his king. Arthur was _his_.

MMM

Merlin gazed with unseeing eyes at the wall above Morris' head even as the servant deep throated him, anxious to please his new master. It had been three days since he had paid a visit to Arthur, and he had no choice but to find release in some way or another or he would go mad. He wasn't sure whether it was Helios' arrival that was doing this to him, knowing that the man wanted the king in his own bed, or whether it was the dreams that had been plaguing.

In the past, Merlin had always dreamt of what was to come. But the last few days had had his mind revealing the things that had been. The nights where he had almost fallen asleep in Arthur's chair, the prince carrying him to the bed whilst placing soft and gentle kisses in his hair, murmuring nonsense in his ear. The nights were they had made love, soft and gentle, Arthur practically worshipping every inch of his warlock with both his tongue and cock, taking him deep and sending Merlin to new levels of pleasure. Whatever it was that was making him dream like this, it was driving him mad. It startled him awake, hard and desperate in a way he hadn't been for a long time, and somehow, he knew that if he went to Arthur, it would be giving in.

Instead, he had just summoned one of the slaves, knowing they would not refuse him. Morris had served Arthur well in the past, Merlin had known that he was talented even as he motioned for the man to kneel. Morris had barely even seemed to blink as Merlin had nudged his straining cock past his lips, and had sucked him off so well the first morning, Merlin had just told him to come back the next day. He knew that he couldn't put off going down to the cave for long, but he could make the point that he would not come every day, he could make Arthur squirm.

Feeling his climax begin to draw close, Merlin shifted position, his hand snaking through Morris' hair and pulling him closer, thrusting desperately. Closing his eyes, he let the image of Arthur fill him up, and with a short grunt, he spilled straight down the servant's throat before pulling out.

"Go." He ordered, not in the mood to deal with anything else. Why was it that Arthur was in his thoughts now more than ever? He thought that it would get easier – there could be no denying that the king was more submissive than he had been originally, yet wasn't broken enough for him to stop being Arthur, he still had the same essence. Morris jumped to his feet and almost sped from the room as Merlin just let himself fall back on the bed, trying to calm his mind.

It didn't work, however, as he heard Morris open the door and a whispered conversation happening beyond. The changes that had taken place in his body meant that his hearing was far sharper than most men's, meaning that he was able to hear the majority of what was being said. He could make out the other voice as belonging to the girl that had to attend to Arthur morning and evening to make sure that he stayed alive, and she was tearful. Morris attempted to calm her, sent her on her way and then cautiously came back into the room.

"My Lord?"

"What?" Merlin made no attempt to move, despite the fact that he was still sprawled naked across his bed. He used the servant whenever he was trying to teach Arthur a lesson by keeping his distance, it wasn't as if he had anything to hide.

"My Lord, she says that he isn't eating."

"Of course he is not, he's a stubborn prat." Merlin flicked his hand, causing Morris to leave the room even as his magic began to dress the warlock. He didn't need to ask to know who Morris was referring to. To speak Arthur's name was a punishable offence in Camelot, Morgana cutting out five people's tongues in order to drive the message home. But considering the way that he had left the king for three days, this was Arthur's way of demanding Merlin's attention. What Merlin hated even more was the fact that he always gave in, and within only a few moments, he was making his way down to the cave.

The black torches flickered into life as he walked past, and before long, he was faced with his king. Arthur's hands were still pulled above his head, meaning Merlin knew how much it must have distressed the maid when he had refused to swallow what she was giving him. The collar around his neck was more symbolic than being used as a restraint, but Arthur's chained legs were pulled up to his chest where he was slumped against the wall, clearly trying to keep some warmth in. For a moment, Merlin just stood there and watched him until Arthur seemed to notice his presence and blearily raised his head. Merlin scowled at how long it had taken Arthur to take note of what was going on around him; it wasn't like the knight Merlin had once known.

"What are you doing, Arthur?" Somehow, it came as no surprise that Arthur didn't answer him, but instead just let his legs tuck even closer to his chest. Merlin wasn't fooled, he knew it wasn't just for warmth that Arthur was sitting like this. He was denying Merlin in the only way left to him, making the warlock have to work if he wanted to claim his king. Sighing, Merlin rolled his eyes as he dropped to his knees beside the royal, reaching out and brushing a hand through Arthur's hair. The bowl of water and cloth used for washing him was still there, as was the untouched food. No doubt the girl was too upset when she realised that she had to report back to Merlin to think of moving it.

"Why are you playing up, hmm?" His voice held the tone of someone talking to a young child as he continued to stroke back Arthur's hair, amused by the way that the king refused to look at him, but just stared in the opposite direction, a scowl evident on his face even from the angle that Merlin was at. Knowing that he wasn't going to get an answer, Merlin just sighed again. His magic warmed the water and he dipped the cloth back in before slowly running it up and down both of Arthur's arms before moving to his chest.

His hand was moving in small circles when he felt the shudder of Arthur's breath. He didn't mean for his magic to be leaking out, yet it was like he couldn't control himself when he was around the king. It was yet again having an effect on Arthur, his legs slowly falling away from his chest as his cock swelled, but Merlin forced himself to carry on washing the king. If he was going to get Arthur co-operating again, he had to do this properly. But after a couple of moments, he realised that it was not the arousal that was causing Arthur to shake, but the tears slipping thick and fast down his cheeks almost silently.

Merlin dropped the cloth and cupped Arthur's chin, turning the man's head until he was facing the warlock, whether he wanted to or not. Using his thumb, he brushed away the tears, kissing Arthur's cheeks at the same time. Intentionally or not, Arthur flinched away, something that caused Merlin to draw back with a frown. The king knew that resisting would only make it so much worse for him, that Merlin had a way of getting what he wanted whether Arthur was willing or not. He had glared and turned away for months, but it had been a long time since Arthur had _pulled_ away, he had learnt that lesson the hard way. Cupping Arthur's face more firmly, Merlin held him still.

"What is going on with you?" Merlin demanded, letting go with one hand and reaching for the food. Arthur would be hungry, and he was aroused, meaning that he should be practically melting in Merlin's hands. Yet for some reason, something didn't seem right today. It wasn't like Arthur was resisting as such, but more that there was a sense of defeat about him.

"Just let me die." He whispered, and Merlin's magic lashed out angrily. He barely even noticed what was happening until the chains shortened so dramatically that Arthur was yanked to his feet, his arms pulled tight above his head and his legs slammed against the wall.

"Don't you ever say that again, you hear?" Merlin snarled, climbing up as well and resting one hand on the collar, his magic sparking just enough to cause Arthur a small amount of pain.

"Why do you care? You've destroyed everything and everyone, you made me watch, Merlin! I don't know you, I don't think I ever did. I'm not going to be your toy, your pet forever."

"You are if I want it." Merlin's voice was dark and dangerous, and despite any resistance Arthur might have been showing, he still shuddered, another stray tear slipping down his face. Merlin leant closer, pressing their bodies together and licking the tear away. "You belong to me, Arthur, and only me. Not Morgana, not Helios, not even yourself. You're mine, so if I want you as my pet, then that is what I get."

"Go to hell." Arthur snarled, clearly trying to create some distance between them, yet not having the mobility in order to do so. Realising what his king was trying, Merlin simply pressed in closer, forcing his knee in between Arthur's legs and nudging them apart. Arthur practically whimpered as he tried to stay in control, but Merlin knew that he was back in charge. The days of Arthur being the master were long gone.

"Maybe I'm already in it." Merlin responded smugly, taking Arthur's cock in one hand and letting his palm slide over it. Arthur's breath hitched as he clearly struggled to control himself, but the warlock could see something in his eyes. Something that Arthur was so desperate to hide, yet couldn't. Longing. Part of the king wanted Merlin just as badly as Merlin wanted him, yet Arthur would just never admit to it. He was too proud, too royal to admit that he still had some sort of feelings for the man who had utterly destroyed his life. Merlin didn't need for him to say it though, he just needed to see that look in Arthur's eyes. It was enough for Merlin to drop to his knees, taking Arthur in his mouth the way he had done for years when he was still the servant.

It didn't matter how much Arthur denied that he wanted this. It didn't matter that his eyes were screwed shut with more tears sliding down his cheeks. All that mattered was how taut his body was against the chains, and how his feet were almost scrabbling as he tried to find more leverage in order to thrust forward, but was restricted by the way that he was tied. It was enough for Merlin though, and he put his tongue to good use. It took no time at all until he was swallowing Arthur down, licking him clean as he let the tension out of the chains. Arthur didn't even try and stand up, but instead crumpled back down to the floor. His eyes were wide and almost glazed over as Merlin chuckled, reaching for the food.

"I hate you." Arthur whispered, his voice trembling as much as his body. Merlin made a noise at the back of his throat and simply lifted a spoonful of soup to his king's mouth, his magic warming it slightly. It didn't take much coaxing for Arthur to part his lips enough for Merlin to slip the spoon in and the warlock's hand stroked gently at Arthur's throat, encouraging him to swallow. Whether it was because he hadn't truly meant that he had wanted Merlin to let him die, or whether it was just because he was as hopeless at resisting Merlin as Merlin was him, but Arthur didn't fight as he was fed. Merlin tried to not let the relief show when he realised that there was a small amount of colour trickling back into the king's face. Not to mention the air around them was beginning to spark with tension again, banishing Arthur's defeated aura for a while longer. He was continuing to fight.

Merlin stayed down in the cave longer than he knew Morgana was happy with. He made Arthur eat everything, even if by the end he was forcing the king. He also made sure that he washed every part of the man, ignoring the way Arthur kept trying to push him away. He rubbed soothing ointment into the chaffed skin around where the shackles bound the king and let his magic seep into Arthur. Not in the same way as before, but making sure the chill was firmly driven from the monarch for the time being. Merlin had meant what he had said, he was not going to let Arthur go that easily. If it meant that he had to bring him back from the brink every couple of months, then so be it. Arthur was his.

He only left when he had finally spilled his release deep within Arthur yet again, making sure his magic soothed away any hurts and pains before sending the king into a deep and dreamless sleep. This was not the first time he had done this; he just knew that he had to keep Arthur fighting. Merlin still needed his destiny, his other half, almost as much as he needed to breathe, meaning there was no way Arthur could be allowed to slip away from him.

Finally, however, he let out a long sigh, removed all the bowls from the washing and food with just a wave of his hand and pressed a long, lingering kiss to Arthur's sleeping forehead. His fingers traced Arthur's now hollowed cheeks, sadness in his eyes as he realised that try as he might, he couldn't keep Arthur exactly the same as he had been. Imprisonment didn't suit the once active knight, and his golden skin was almost a sickeningly pale colour. It was like Arthur was just wasting away, regardless of how much Merlin had attempted to care for him.

"You're mine." He whispered, revelling in just how innocent Arthur could still look when he was asleep. He wasn't the defiant prisoner like that; he was just Arthur, the same man that Merlin had met all those years ago. Shaking his head to try and banish the memories of the past, Merlin slowly stood up, allowed his hand to ghost over Arthur's hair once again, and left.

MMM

The bed sheets were twisted around him as Merlin woke with a gasp, sweat drenching the warlock's body. Something was wrong, something was very wrong… There was a part of his soul that was as trapped in the darkness as Arthur was, almost as if that part of him was actually the king, that Arthur had left his mark on Merlin in a way that neither of them would ever be able to understand. But right now, that part was screaming and writhing in pain, and Merlin knew better than to try and ignore it.

He was dressed with just a snap of his fingers, hurrying from his chambers with a speed far greater than he should have been capable of. He had been feeling uneasy for weeks now, ever since Morgana had welcomed Mordred to the city with open arms. Arthur had no destiny now, how could the chilling boy kill him? That was the only reason that Merlin had stopped himself from destroying Mordred on the spot, truly believing that destiny had been corrupted and twisted to serve _him_ rather than the cruel mistress of fate. Morgana was Queen, Arthur wasn't even on the throne, surely Mordred wasn't a threat?

But now, with the feeling intensifying with every step that he took towards the cave, Merlin just knew that he had made a grave mistake. The flames were already lit as he hurried past and he knew that it meant that someone with magic had just been this way. The air was crackling with magic, and Merlin recognised the feel of it, he knew that Mordred was down here. Morgana must have told him about Arthur, there could be no other explanation for it. Yet Merlin couldn't think of that right now, not when he could hear pained gasps coming from just around the next bend, the sound making him think of someone choking, not able to breathe properly…

His magic swept ahead of him, but Merlin was right behind. The magic hadn't yet taken hold of Mordred when Merlin sped into the cave, and for one long moment, it was as if time had stopped. Mordred had taken control of Arthur's chains, shortening them so much that the king's feet had actually left the floor. He was slamming into Arthur hard and furious, and whilst Merlin knew that he could be just as aggressive at times, he also knew that Mordred wouldn't have used magic to open Arthur first and soothe the way. No matter how lost in the darkness he was, his magic still sought to protect Arthur in some way or the other.

Yet this was different. This was brutal and animalistic, and Merlin could hear the harsh gasps and grunts spilling from Mordred as he took Arthur, claiming something that belonged to Merlin and Merlin alone. Even from where he was at, part of Merlin knew that Mordred was killing the king…and he was taking pleasure in it whilst Merlin just stood there, frozen to the spot and unable to do anything.

But then the moment past, and Mordred didn't even have time to turn and face Merlin before the warlock's magic ripped him out and away from Arthur, flinging him off the edge. It didn't matter that Mordred had powerful magic himself, no one could stand against Emrys, and the weight of Merlin's magic simply forced him off the ledge and sent him plummeting into the cave below. A new thrum of power ran through his veins and his eyes glowed as he absorbed more magic, and Merlin knew that, just like that, Mordred was dead. In a way, he should have made the boy suffer more, but all he could think about was getting to Arthur.

With one wave of his hand, he didn't just loosen Arthur's chains, he freed him completely, physically catching him as Arthur fell. Cradling him in his arms, Merlin snarled in fury as it took another wave of magic to prise the collar lose. Mordred had tightened it, causing Arthur's throat to swell slightly as the monarch struggled to draw a breath, agony etched into every fibre of his being in a way that Merlin had never seen before. Finally, the warlock managed to get the collar off, but was alarmed to see that Arthur's breathing didn't ease.

"Come on, I told you I'm not letting you go." He hissed, giving Arthur a small shake even as the king's eyes fell closed. His head was resting on Merlin's shoulder as huge shudders shook his body. Merlin rested his hand against Arthur's forehead, swearing when he felt the burning temperature. He let his magic probe outwards, and it felt as if his heart had stopped.

Mordred hadn't only attacked Arthur physically. He had used magic on him. But whilst Arthur's body became aroused and desperate when it was touched by Merlin's magic, the opposite had happened when it had been touched by the magic of the boy prophesised to kill him. It was as if Mordred had poisoned Arthur, his body fighting off an infection that was slowly shutting him down. His breathing became more and more laboured even as Merlin whispered every healing spell that he knew. But Mordred too had known what he was doing, and the combination of magic and pain coupled with how weak Arthur already was meant that the king simply could not be saved. His skin was turning cold even as Merlin clung desperately to him, trying to keep him warm in the way that he had done for all of this time. He should have known that Mordred had still been a threat, he should have done something more to protect Arthur…His thoughts were cut off when a sound caused him to look down.

"I don't…" A harsh cough tore from Arthur's chest as he managed to force his eyes open, clouded with pain and the acceptance that this was the end for him. Merlin tried to hush him, tried to make him fight, but what could he offer Arthur? What could he say that would make the man want to stay alive after everything?

"Shh, hush now…" He tried to keep Arthur quiet, tried to find some way of preserving the man's strength. Merlin was almost undefeatable, how had this happened? Yet deep down, he knew. Arthur was his weakness – always had been and always would be. His magic was always more unpredictable around the king, Merlin never knew what was going to happen next where Arthur was involved. Mordred had known and exploited this. He hadn't just poisoned Arthur, he had poisoned Merlin _through_ Arthur, and the warlock's magic was screaming its defiance. Yet for all the pieces of rock that came crashing down from the ceiling, it did nothing to alleviate the way that Arthur was shaking.

"I don't hate you." Arthur whispered, ignoring Merlin's commands as usual. Merlin couldn't help but feel alarmed at just how faint the man's voice was, and he could already feel the resistance leaving Arthur's body as death claimed him. "I should…but I don't."

Arthur's eyes slid shut once again, and Merlin felt something crack deep within him. Somehow, he just knew that his beautiful, blond, golden king wouldn't be opening his eyes again. A hoarse scream tore from his lips as part of Merlin died along with his king, yet Merlin wasn't aware as huge parts of the castle above him began to crumble and fall.

"You're mine, Arthur, don't you dare!" But there was no answer, and Merlin knew that there wouldn't be ever again. It didn't matter how deep into the darkness he had let himself go in order to make sure that Morgana didn't kill Arthur, didn't matter what he had done to twist and corrupt destiny in order to make sure that his lover stayed alive, Arthur had still be taken from him. He had thought that he had found a way of making sure that nothing, not even duty could take the king, yet he had failed.

Merlin spent almost an hour just sitting in the cave, holding Arthur close to his chest. But eventually, he stumbled into an upright position, hoisting the king into his arms. For the first time in over a year, the king was leaving the prison, he was getting to be back out in the open of his beloved kingdom once again. Merlin didn't even let himself use magic in order to help him support Arthur's weight, but it wasn't like he needed it. Arthur was nothing more than skin and bones, his face pale and his ribs sticking out. Everyone seemed to melt away from Merlin as he passed, and he wasn't aware of the shocked whispers that followed him. People had known that Arthur was alive, but no one had known where or in what state. Until now…now when it was too late and the king's soul had already fled in order to join his father's.

Chunks of the far side of the castle had fallen even in the short time that he had spent down in the caves. Rain was lashing down as the wind howled, yet Merlin just continued to walk. He didn't stop for anything as he left Camelot, the rest of the castle beginning to fall now that her king was safely past the gates. Screams filled the air as people scrambled for safety, yet the sounds were lost in the storm raging overhead.

Through the forest Merlin walked, his eyes staring ahead and unseeing as he clutched Arthur to him. He didn't feel anything, he didn't notice anything but the weight of the king in his arms. He shouldn't have been able to carry Arthur this easily, he shouldn't even be out here…

When he stopped thinking, Merlin had no idea, but he was more than thankful when it happened. As the castle came crashing down behind him, the dust whipped up around his feet and stung at his eyes. Yet Merlin didn't notice, his mind had gone totally blank as he continued to put one foot in front of the other.

He walked for hours, his feet seeming to know what direction Merlin wanted to go in. Yet even when he reached his stopping point, he didn't stop walking.

Instead, Merlin let his feet carry him, the water lapping first at his ankles and then further up his legs as he strode into the Lake of Avalon. His eyes were fixed ahead and he just continued to walk, even when the water reached his chest and began to rise even higher. It shouldn't have been possible to keep walking in the way that Merlin did, yet he somehow managed it, clinging on fiercely to Arthur as the water tried to tear his king from him.

Eventually, the water closed over his head, yet Merlin could feel nothing but relief as he sucked in a lungful of liquid rather than air. He let his eyes drift shut even as he clung onto Arthur as much as he could, and deliberately took a deep breath. His magic fought to save him, but he denied it, pushing it away as he had never done before.

As Camelot began to burn, Merlin went limp.

He had told Arthur that he was never letting him go. If that meant following his king into death, then so be it. Nothing was going to tear him away from his destiny, whatever it took.


End file.
